


One-shots & Drabbles

by liggytheauthoress



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: I have an addiction to snuggly!Amis, Multi, and maybe some angst later on, fluffy fluff fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-26
Updated: 2014-07-30
Packaged: 2018-01-02 17:29:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1059583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liggytheauthoress/pseuds/liggytheauthoress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A place for my ever-expanding collection of Les Mis pieces that are too short to warrant being posted on their own. At the moment it's mainly fluff but that might change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. E/R

**Author's Note:**

> E/R, Enjolras refuses to sleep and Grantaire is exasperated.

At this point Grantaire was thoroughly used to his boyfriend’s tendency to stay up working until the small hours of the morning - when Enjolras was focused on a task he was focused, and silly mortal things like food or sleep were beneath his notice (sex, Grantaire was smug to say, was not one of those things, a fact that he often used to his advantage whenever he thought Enjolras could do with a distraction).

Tonight, however, Enjolras didn’t look like he had the energy for sex. Hell, he didn’t look like he had the energy for anything, but here he was, slumped over his desk, somehow managed to still type upwards of eighty words per minute despite looking like he could barely keep his eyes open. Grantaire had already tried to coerce him into coming to bed twice, but no luck.

“You aren’t actually immortal, y’know,” Grantaire said, his front half hanging off the bed as he reached over and ran a hand through Enjolras’s curls. “Even you need sleep.”

“Can’t,” Enjolras mumbled. “Working.”

“It’s four in the morning.” Grantaire only received a grunt in reply. “When was the last time you slept?”

There was a pause as Enjolras appeared to think, then, “Recently.”

“Recently?”

“Yes. Recently.”

“In the past seventy-two hours recently or in the past week recently?”

“Grantaaaire.”

“Enjolraaaas,” Grantaire replied, matching the blond’s exasperated tone. He pulled himself out of their bed and went to stand behind Enjolras, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend’s neck and kissing the golden curls. Squinting at the laptop screen, he remarked, “You do realize you’ve typed the same paragraph three times in a row, right?”

Enjolras stopped typing, leaning forward until his nose was touching the screen, and muttered, “Fuck.”

Grantaire couldn’t help smirking. “I think the universe is trying to tell you that it’s time you went to bed.” He could feel Enjolras opening his mouth to protest, and cut him off with, “Seriously. You can’t singlehandedly save the world overnight, y’know. Especially not if you work yourself to death.”

A sigh. “Fine. Twenty minutes of sleep.”

“Not even a fraction of what you need, but it’s a start.” Grantaire decided to humor him, feeling pretty confident that once Enjolras laid down he’d be well and truly out for the night.

He flopped back into bed and watched as Enjolras stripped down to his boxers, making a noise of appreciation as the blond pulled his shirt up over his head. Enjolras gave him a look. “Not tonight, R.”

“I know. Doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the view.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You love me.”

Enjolras attempted to glare at him, but the effect was ruined when he yawned a second later. Mumbling something about exasperating art majors, he crawled into bed beside Grantaire and cuddled into the brunet’s side. Grantaire reached up automatically and started playing with his hair, and Enjolras gave what could only be described as a contented purr.

“See? This isn’t so terrible,” Grantaire murmured.

“Told you, jus’ twenty minutes,” Enjolras slurred, voice muffled by Grantaire’s chest.

“Of course, dear.”

Thirty seconds later, Enjolras’s resounding snore told Grantaire that his boyfriend was going to be out for quite a while, which was exactly the plan. Satisfied, Grantaire pulled Enjolras closely against him, pulled the sheets over them both, and whispered, “Good night, love,” before following his Apollo into slumber.

 


	2. Cosette/Jehan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cosette/Jehan, snuggles and Tangled

“Your collection of Disney movies is tragically lacking,” Cosette says with a sigh, running her fingers across the shelf of cases, trying to decide which princess she’s in the mood to watch.

“Excuse me, but I have every Disney animated feature ever made,” Jehan huffs indignantly from where he’s curled up on the couch. He has a notebook in front of him, but he seems perfectly content to scribble on his arm instead.

“Not on DVD, you don’t.” She shakes her head at him. “Jehan, love, nobody uses VCR’s anymore.”

He just shrugs, and Cosette decides to make replacing Jehan’s VHS collection with DVDs her new goal for this year.

She has it narrowed down to either  _Tangled_  or  _The Little Mermaid_  when she hears Jehan get up from the couch and feels arms wrap around her waist from behind. Lips press softly to the back of her neck and she smiles. “Which one are you in the mood for: Ariel or Rapunzel?”

“Rapunzel, definitely.” His tone implies that he’s shocked she even has to ask. Cosette grins and reaches up to grab the case, which is somewhat difficult with Jehan clinging to her and nuzzling her shoulder.

She barely manages to put the movie on before Jehan is pulling her back onto the couch and wrapping himself around her, nestling his head in the crook of her neck. Cosette rolls her eyes and absent-mindedly moves a hand to his hair, running her fingers over the braids she’d made this morning. Jehan actually purrs and snuggles closer to her, angling his head to kiss her collarbone.

Once the movie starts, Jehan is, as always, completely entranced by it. Cosette knows he’s seen it more times than either of them can count, but he always looks like he’s watching it for the first time, and it’s adorable.

Cosette is pretty sure that if Jehan were a Disney movie, it would be  _Tangled_.

They don’t talk much while they’re watching (apart from some truly spectacular choreography around the living room during _I’ve Got A Dream_ , if Cosette does say so herself), and that’s how they like it. Jehan eventually shifts so that his head is pillowed on Cosette’s lap, and without even looking she starts redoing the braids in his hair. He’s grabbed his pen and is scribbling on her knee (she’s wearing an old pair of his boxers, so her legs are bare, and she can still see the marks from the couplets he wrote on them last night).

Like always, they aren’t sure who’s the first one to start crying during the lanterns scene, and Cosette grabs for the tissues. Jehan leans up and kisses her hand as it passes over his face.

It’s cozy and warm and Jehan is doodling on her arm now, and her legs have fallen asleep but she doesn’t have the heart to make him move, and quite frankly, Cosette wouldn’t want it any other way.


	3. Cosette/Jehan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cosette/Jehan. In a blanket fort. 'Nuff said.

Whenever one of them has a bad day, there’s one remedy that’s guaranteed foolproof.

Jehan is always in charge of building the blanket fort, since he’s been making them since he was five and is an expert by now. Cosette is in charge of getting everything else together: snacks, pillows, stuffed animals, paper and pens for Jehan, and both their knitting bags.

They usually stick to Disney, but they’ll occasionally watch Anastasia or The Swan Princess or something else instead - the Harry Potter movies are a frequent choice.

Today it’s Anastasia, because they haven’t watched it in ages and Cosette had a terrible day at work and the soundtrack for that movie always makes her feel better (especially when Jehan starts singing Paris Holds the Key to Your Heart in her ear).

By the time the opening credits are done, Cosette is stretched out on her side with the laptop on the floor in front of her and a thin blond poet curled around her from behind, his legs tangled with hers. She smiles as she feels Jehan kiss the back of her neck and pulls his arm more tightly around her middle, snuggling back against his chest.

They stay like that for a while, until Jehan gets an idea for a sonnet and dives for a pen, and Cosette breaks open the bag of marshmallows (a snack choice that, as always, ends with the two of them trying to throw marshmallows into each other’s mouths and then eventually just throwing fistfuls at each other until the floor of the blanket fort is covered). Cosette leans over to kiss Jehan on the mouth before grabbing her knitting.

Inevitably, when Jehan finishes writing he wants to cuddle some more, and he works his way onto Cosette’s lap despite her swatting his arm. After a while she gives in and puts her half-finished scarf aside so she can play with Jehan’s braids. He hums contentedly and turns to plant a kiss on her wrist.

Cosette isn’t even surprised when Jehan gently takes one of her arms and, producing a pen seemingly out of thin air, starts gently writing on her forearm in his flowing scrawl. It’s Italian today - he prefers French, but he’s also partial to Latin, Greek, and Japanese. Cosette loves this, the sight and feeling of him inscribing the most beautiful words he can think of onto her skin, even if she can’t always understand them.

The pen is, of course, thrown aside and forgotten as soon as Paris Holds the Key to Your Heart starts.


	4. Feuilly/Bahorel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feuilly/Bahorel and karaoke, or, Why Bahorel Hates Bar-Hopping with Jean Prouvaire

Bahorel is not entirely sure what he’s doing here.

All he knows is that he woke up this morning with the intention of spending the day lazing around his flat, preferably sans pants, and maybe going over to Feuilly’s place tonight, and he’s not certain how or when it happened, but at some point Feuilly and Jehan coerced him into going bar-hopping with them.

He likes bars. He really does. His ideal weekend isn’t complete without him getting blind stinking drunk in a pub somewhere.

But he’s pretty fucking annoyed with Feuilly and Jehan for neglecting to mention they’d be going to a karaoke bar.

Bahorel orders another beer and buries his face in his arm. He’s pretty sure that if he hears one more drunken rendition of “ABC” he’s going to set something on fire.

And it doesn’t help that Feuilly and Jehan have been hanging off either shoulder for the past ten minutes, attempting to convince him to go up and actually sing. If it was anyone else, he would have punched them in the face by now, but as it is he merely rolls his eyes and repeats, for the hundredth time, “Absolutely no.”

“Aww, come on, please?” Bahorel can tell by his tone that Feuilly is doing the puppy eyes, so he turns his head in the opposite direction...which backfires, because the only person whose puppy eyes are more effective than Feuilly’s is Jehan.

“No.” Bahorel faces straight ahead and tries to pretend they aren’t there. “And by the way, I have lost all trust in the both of you.”

They seem to give up at that point, which is good, but Bahorel knows they’re still plotting ways to get him to stop sulking. None of which will work - he’s determined. He’s going to be a grouch for the rest of the night and nothing is going to change that.

He feels his resolve start to waver a little when Feuilly announces he’s going to go up and sing, but Bahorel is stubborn. He ignores his boyfriend and concentrates on the beer in front of him.

Of course, that all goes to shit when the music starts.

“Fucking hell,” Bahorel mutters as he recognizes the opening notes of “Wanted Dead or Alive”. He should have known Feuilly would use his Bon Jovi weakness against him, it wouldn’t be the first time...He turns around to glare at the stage.

The glaring lasts all of thirty seconds, because Jesus Christ, Feuilly belting out Bon Jovi is quite possibly the hottest thing Bahorel has ever seen in his life. And it would appear that Feuilly is extremely aware of this, because he keeps looking in Bahorel’s direction and moving his body in ways that make Bahorel want to rush the stage and jump his bones right then and there.

By the time Feuilly is done, Bahorel is ready to either kiss him or kill him, he’s not positive which. And Feuilly smirks as he comes walking back, leaning against Bahorel’s shoulder and asking, “What did you think?”

Bahorel digs his fingertips into Feuilly’s hip and mutters, “I am going to wreck you when we get home.”

Feuilly grins and Bahorel has the distinct feeling he’s just been played. Which he really can’t complain about. At all.

Okay, maybe karaoke bars have some merit after all.

 


	5. Team Mom!Combeferre

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gen (with implied Ferre/Jehan and Courf/Marius). Ft. Actual Team Mom!Combeferre.

Combeferre’s pretty sure they’d all be completely lost without him.

Becoming the designated parent of the group had never been intentional, but it had happened, and he takes his responsibilities as such very seriously. Like right now.

“Enjolras, it’s three in the morning,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “Changing the world can wait until we all get some sleep.”

Enjolras gives him a look from across the table. Courfeyrac, Jehan, and Marius all look back and forth between the two of them hopefully - they all perked up as soon as they heard the word “sleep”. They’re in Enjolras’s apartment, and while Grantaire is usually the one who coaxes Enjolras into letting everyone rest for the night, he’s not here, so the task of getting their fearless leader to actually get some goddamn rest falls to the team mom. Which would be Combeferre.

“The protest is the day after tomorrow,” Enjolras says, reaching for what has to be at least his fifth cup of coffee.

Combeferre intercepts and pulls the mug away before Enjolras can get any more caffeine into his system. “Yes, and I don’t know about you, but I think it will go much more smoothly if we’re not all too exhausted to stand.” He’s not above using underhanded methods to press his point - if he has to point out the way Jehan is yawning every thirty seconds or the way Courfeyrac is clutching his head, he will, because dammit if he can’t guilt Enjolras in letting everybody sleep he has no business being team parent.

Enjolras looks at him blearily, then sighs. “Okay. I guess a little sleep won’t hurt anybody…”

He lets Combeferre half-drag him to the living room, the others trailing behind, and deposits the blond on the couch, where Enjolras promptly passes out. Combeferre rolls his eyes and covers him with a blanket before checking on the others.

Courf and Marius have claimed one of the armchairs, somehow managing to cram themselves into a space designed to only be occupied by one person. Combeferre ignores the distinctly motherly voice in his head that’s telling him they’ll both be horrendously cramped and stiff in the morning, and merely pulls the coffee table over a little bit so that they can put their legs up if they need to stretch out.

Jehan is waiting expectantly by the recliner. Combeferre smiles and pulls off his glasses, sitting down and melting a little into the cushions. Jehan promptly flops down on top of him and snuggles into his chest, asleep by the time Combeferre pulls an Afghan over the both of them.

Yeah, they would definitely all be utterly screwed without him.


	6. Cosette/Jehan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cosette/Jehan, in which Jehan breaks the "don't watch Lion King without supervision" rule. With an appearance by Team Mom!Combeferre.

”I’m glad you came,” Cosette says as soon as Combeferre is through the door.

"How is he?" Combeferre asks, following her through the living room.

"Not good. Usually we watch it together, so neither of us is alone…but I guess he thought he could handle it without me." Cosette frowns. "I came home to find that he’d locked himself in the bathroom. Tried to get him out for almost an hour before I caved and called you."

Combeferre nods as Cosette knocks gently on the bathroom door and calls, “Jehan? ‘Ferre is here…Do you feel like coming out yet?”

"No," comes a sullen voice from within. "Go away."

"Jehan, you can’t stay in there all day."

"Yes I can."

Cosette looks to Combeferre, who switches into what Courfeyrac and Grantaire have dubbed “Mom Mode” and says, “Jehan, sulking in the bathtub isn’t going to make you feel any better, you know that.”

"I don’t care."

"Look, I know you’re upset, but-"

"Mufasa died again, Combeferre!" they hear Jehan wail. "Scar let him go and he died again!"

Combeferre rubs his temples and Cosette cringes. This is precisely the reason they instigated the Jehan-is-not-allowed-watch-the-Lion-King-by-himself rule.

"If you come out we can watch Tangled," Combeferre coaxes, earning a thumbs up sign from Cosette.

A long silence, then, “ _And_  Sleeping Beauty?”

"And Sleeping Beauty."

There’s more silence, then the sound of Jehan climbing out of the bathtub and unlocking the door. Cosette mouths “thank you” to Combeferre before letting Jehan drag her into the living room for some much-needed therapy.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cosette/Jehan, and one of their favorite methods of showing affection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> inspired by this Tumblr post: http://liggytheauthoress.tumblr.com/post/93263015931/i-have-an-idea-an-alternative-to-oral-sex-floral

“What are you drawing now?” Cosette asks as Jehan moves the marker across the skin of her shoulder blade.

“Plumeria,” Jehan replies, gently brushing some of her hair out of the way so he can continue.

Cosette’s eyes turn to the ceiling as she thinks for a moment. “Springtime?”

“Mhmm.” There’s a shifting behind her as Jehan switches to a different colored Sharpie. “Stop squirming, you’ll make it come out looking all warped.”

“You’re breathing on my neck, it’s tickling.”

“Haven’t you ever heard of suffering for the sake of art?” Jehan pecks the nape of her neck before sitting back up and declaring, “There. Done.”

Grinning, Cosette sits up and turns around, taking a moment to admire the bouquet of honeysuckle she’d carefully drawn on Jehan’s collarbone earlier and the trails of ivy winding up his left arm. “My turn,” she declares, pushing Jehan onto hisback and straddling him, tracing the tip of the marker along his chest, just over his heart.

Jehan idly braids a few strands of her hair together while she draws, humming to himself. “So are you going to tell me what you’re doing or do I have to wait?”

“Forget-me-nots. Fairly self-explanatory.”

“True love. Good memories.” She can hear the smile in Jehan’s voice without having to look up. “Any particular memory you’re thinking of?”

“Not really. The first time we did this, I guess. When you tried drawing on my feet and I accidentally kicked you in the face.”

“Oh, so _that’s_ a good memory?”

“Shut up, you know what I mean. And as I recall you fell off the bed laughing.”

Jehan’s eye roll is almost audible as Cosette finishes her work. She makes no move to climb off the person beneath her, preferring to trace along her drawings with her finger. She smiles softly as Jehan’s hands move up to do the same, his fingers lightly outlining the yellow tulips on Cosette’s cheek, the spray of daffodils across her ribcage, the small gardenia on her hip.

They do this a lot, strip down to bare skin and lie together in bed or on the couch or the floor or wherever, covering each other in declarations of love and affection and happiness, using flowers instead of words, making love through blossoms and petals instead of their bodies, until they’re both laughing and covered in ink that almost immediately smears into indistinguishable smudges of color when they cuddle.

There isn’t a language on Earth that can accurately describe just what the two of them feel for each other, but the language of flowers comes awfully close.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> most of the flower meanings differed from site to site when I was looking them up, but here's what the different flowers mentioned here represent within the context of the fic:  
> Daffodil - the sun is always shining when I'm with you  
> Forget-me-not - good memories  
> Gardenia - you're lovely  
> Honeysuckle - happiness  
> Ivy - love, friendship, affection  
> Plumeria - springtime  
> Yellow tulips - there's sunshine in your smile


End file.
